


Step Up to the Plate, Start Swingin'

by wrotemywayout



Series: Modern College Newsies AU [2]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, i stan baseball, minor jealousy, race plays baseball, the jealousy isnt angsty or anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 20:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13302339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrotemywayout/pseuds/wrotemywayout
Summary: Spot get's jealous of Race's baseball team.





	Step Up to the Plate, Start Swingin'

When Race started playing for NYU’s baseball team, Spot couldn’t have been more supportive. Second only to swimming, baseball did have the most flattering uniform of any sport. But, apart from getting to see Race in pants that are tight on the ass and a shirt that fits nicely around his shoulders, Spot was so proud that Race was able to get scholarship money from the team. And God knew Race needed it. 

 

So Spot learned to cope with Race always being busy with practices and team events and he began to prepare himself for Race traveling to away games.

 

“You really don’t have to come. It’s not even a real game, just a scrimmage. We ain’t even playing at the stadium. You don’t have to spend your Friday watching me play,” Race said, as Spot began getting ready to leave, sliding Race’s purple NYU hoodie over his head. 

 

“That’s where you're wrong, though. I want to spend my Friday watching you play. Plus, the stadium is so out of the way I’d rather stay on campus. ‘Sides, who can resist those hot little pants.” Spot stepped across the dorm to where Race had been leaning over his bed, packing his baseball bag. Spot playfully slapped Race on the ass, earning an annoyed look from his boyfriend. 

 

“Fine, fine. I’ll stop fighting. The scrimmage isnt for another 45 minutes but I have to head out now. I’ll see you down there?” Race slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to Spot. 

 

“Nah, I’ll walk with you,” Spot unplugged his phone from it’s charger, pocketing it and grabbing a bag of sunflower seeds from his desk. “Let’s go.”

 

“I swear you only come to eat those damn seeds. You must love them more than you love me,” Race teased. 

 

“Well if you won’t let me eat them in the dorm then I get desperate,” Spot complained. 

 

“The shells get everywhere, I can’t stand it. Still, you value your relationship with the seeds then you do with me.” Race knocked his shoulder into Spot’s as they walked across the campus. 

 

“Nah, I gotta keep you around. These things are terrible in bed.” Spot knocked Race back and grinned. 

 

“Oh, is that all I’m good for? After all these years I’m just your fucktoy? Spotty, I’m hurt.” Race held his hand over his heart if he had been wounded. 

 

“Nah, It’s not all you’re good for. It definitely is a plus, though.” 

  
  


Anyone who’s watched High School Musical 2 knows that baseball is the gayest sport, and Spot’s watched High School Musical more than he’d like to admit. Race was playing really well, feilding every play perfectly. But the real issue came when he was batting. With two players on base, Race hit a triple, causing two runs to be scored for his team. This, in itself, isn't an issue. Spot was very proud of Race (and planned to show him just how proud he was later that night. The problem was his teammates. 

 

“Atta baby,”

“That’s my boy,”

“Way to go babe,”

 

Now the name calling he could get over, it must have been some kind of team dynamic he didn’t understand. But when Race eventually made his way back off the field and into the dugout he was swarmed with a group of muscular strangers who were slapping and squeezing his ass, calling him pet names that they had no right to be using, all while Race was leaning into them and smiling. Spot usually wasn’t the jealous type but this was making his blood boil. If this was how they acted in a serious setting then how were they when they were just hanging out? When Race was out to dinner for some kind of team bonding thing was he really just getting groped as they played pool at the resutarant? How did Race act with the bunch of them? Everyone on campus knew how big of a flirt he was. Spot just wished that flirting would be confined to him, Race’s boyfriend since junior year of high school. 

 

Spot wouldn't call himself the jealous type but he couldn't help if he was possessive. His Race was gorgeous and smart and funny, he was a catch and Spot doesn't know how he managed to be the one that caught him.  So yeah, even if it was friendly and platonic, it was pissing Spot off to see Race being flirted with so shamelessly, being touched as if it was perfectly natural. It’s not like Spot was worried Race would leave him or anything, he just would prefer to see people back the fuck away from his perfect man. He supposed it was just the effect of dating a literal god on earth. 

 

Spot was upset but he loved baseball and more importantly he loved Race, so he stayed until the end of the game. Pride in his boyfriend (and eating his sunflower seeds) provided just enough reason to stay put even as guys he had never seen before were all up on his boyfriend. There was hardly anyone else watching (Race was right, it wasn't even a game, there was really no reason to come) and Spot was left alone, sitting in the stands. The sun had started to set and it was beginning to get cold. Not unbearably cold but Spot wished he had another sweatshirt, or a boyfriend sitting with him to keep him warm. When the ninth inning came to an end there was no way he could wait around for Race to finish in the locker room for them to walk back together.   It would take too long and he’d be waiting in the cold. And he didn’t want to imagine what kind of things go on in the locker room while they congratulate each other and celebrate winning their first scrimmage of the season. And he really didn’t want to imagine what it’d look like when they win a real game. 

 

**Spot:** headin back to the dorm. you played well 

**Tony:** ok ill be there soon. love you

Spot could never help but smile then Race said he loved him so casually. Even after three years of dating whenever Race lazily cuddled up against him in the mornings with a soft “I love you” or when he drunkenly stumbled into the dorm after a night out with his friends and professed his love in a slurred mess of a speech Spot couldn't suppress the butterflies. He would never get used to the fact that Race actually loved him and was so open about admitting it. 

 

**Spot:** love you too tony. see you later 

 

Soon Spot was back in his building, unlocking his dorm and stepping inside. He took a second to clean up the mess of laundry and other miscellaneous items left on Race’s bed because as much and he loved Race, he was messy as hell. Even though it was only nine, Spot suddenly felt exhausted and he collapsed into the bed nearest him, Race’s. After three years together Race and Spot would much rather spend their nights in the same bed, but the dorm beds were bolted to the ground so they couldn't push them together and they were too small to comfortably share. So they kept their nights together limited, because while they enjoyed it for the time they both woke up with sore backs and had to listen to each other complain. 

 

Spot was convinced Race’s bed was more comfortable, but really he just wanted an excuse to wrap himself in Race’s blankets and be engulfed by the smell if his boyfriend. For a moment Spot almost forgot that he had been mad but suddenly the wave of jealousy rushed back over him, as he remembered why Race wasn't right there with him. He was with his teammates. And that was fine, really it was. Except Spot also hated it. 

 

Spot heard the door unlocking and poked his head out of the blankets. “Oh, hey grandpa. All ready for bed? It’s not even 9:30.” Race put his bag down and walked to the bed. He leaned down placing a soft kiss on Spot’s forehead. Spot smiled despite himself. 

 

“Just kinda tired, I guess,” Spot noted Race’s damp hair and new outfit. “You shower?” he asked 

 

“At the locker room, yeah,” Race lifted the covers and slipped into his bed next to Spot. Spot hummed and moved closer to Race, he knew that they should talk about feelings but he didn’t want to ruin this. Besides, who actually likes feelings talks? 

 

“You played really well tonight, babe. The team’s lucky to have you,” Spot said with his head resting on Race’s chest, his eyes looking up at Race. 

 

“Thanks but it wasn't all me. They could’ve won without me there I only look good because my team makes me look good,” As cocky as Race was, when it came to direct complements he could never accept them. 

 

“I think you always look good,” Spot said matter-of-factly. 

 

“Great, be sure to tell my coach that,” Race joked. 

 

“So you like your teammates? You guys are close?” Spot prompted. 

 

“Oh yeah, definitely. The guys are great. Obviously they have nothing on you and our friends but I certainly don’t mind spending time with them at all,” Race explained enthusiastically. 

 

“Okay,” Spot said simply, burying his face into Race’s shoulder.

 

“Hey,” Race said softly, pushing Spots chin up so he could look at him. “Something wrong? I say something you didn’t want to hear?” Race looked concerned as he tried to figure you what was going through Spot’s mind. After a three year relationship and a two year friendship before that, Race knew Spot. He knew when he was hungry didn’t want to ask Race to cook, he knew to always bring an extra sweatshirt so Spot could wear it and he knew that even when he gets too cold Spot will never admit that he needs said sweatshirt, only putting it on so Race stops asking. He knew how to read Spot like he could read English or Italian. But now, he was stuck. 

 

“It’s nothing,” Spot insisted 

  
“No, it isn’t. Talk to me.”

 

“It’s really not a big deal, I love going to your games and all but seeing you be so, so flirty with the other guys. I guess I get kinda,” Spot trailed off. 

 

“Jealous?” Race filled in. 

 

“Jealous is such a harsh word,” Spot refused to admit he was jealous. 

 

“But is it the correct word?” Race needed to know the source of Spot’s worry. 

 

“Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry it’s nothing you did. It’s more the way your teammates were treating you. None of it’s your fault but the way you’ve been spending so much time with them. It’s just, I don’t know. I love watching you play and I’m so proud of you. And I’m happy you like your team, your happiness is the most important thing so I don’t even know why I brought it up,” Spot began rambling. 

 

“No, Spot. That’s not how relationships work. I promise the guys on my team are all really nice and I like hanging out with them but you mean the most to me. I’m going out with a few of them tomorrow, you should tag along. See what it’s like. Then if you’re still jealous we can figure something out. But I can guarantee you will realize how perfect not my type they are.” Race ran a hand up and down Spot’s arm in a comforting motion, pulling him closer to himself. 

 

“Okay, that sounds good. I’m sorry, I was probably overreacting. I really am proud of you. I missed watching you play.” Spot began to feel guilty that he made Race worry when he didn’t do anything wrong. 

 

“I missed having you there. It’s all just so different now, not being in high school,” Race remembered how Spot used to sit and watch his practices, only leaving when the coach yelled at Race for getting too distracted and missing a catch. 

 

“It is. But now I get to sleep in the same bed with you whenever I want and I don’t have to sneak in through your window,” Spot countered. 

 

“You have a point,” They both grew quiet for a minute before Race’s phone chimed. “Hey, do you want to go to sleep or are you feeling better?” 

 

“I’m okay. Why? Who was that?”    
  
“Jack,” said Race, “He and the guys are watching a movie in the common room. Apparently he has someone he wants us to meet.”

 

“What kind of someone?” Spot asked, wondering what he was in for. 

 

“A boyfriend someone, I think,” said Race. 

  
“This’ll be fun”   


**Author's Note:**

> my series is now an actual series!! let me know if there's anything else you want to see coming from this universe.


End file.
